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#hostage situation
one-time-i-dreamt · 5 months
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My school was being held hostage and my dumbass wasn't aware, so I went down to the front office to say hi, and was met with guns.
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kabie-whump · 2 months
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♡ Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage Situation ♡
@febuwhump
Content: Kidnapping, blood, bondage, neglectful team, ransom, whumper turned caretaker
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"You might as well just let me go. They're not coming."
Whumper continues shuffling cards, not looking at Whumpee. "You keep saying that. How can you be so sure?"
"Your asking price is too high."
"Please. Don't try to tell me that your little team is broke. I know that's not true."
"They're not broke. But they won't pay all that just for me. They won't even pay half of that. You're wasting your time. And your chains." Whumpee looks down at their own body, at the way they're bound by miles of chains to the point where they can't move an inch. "Seriously, is all this really necessary?"
"I don't know what you're capable of, and I would rather not find out."
"Hm. Fair enough. Would you believe me if I promised that I'm harmless?"
"No."
"Worth a shot."
They go quiet for a while, the only sounds being Whumper's cards shuffling against the table and the steady drip of blood hitting the floor from Whumpee's injuries. An hour passes before Whumper speaks again.
"You really think they won't pay up?"
"Not for me. Maybe if you'd taken Leader..."
Whumper scoffs. "If I was powerful enough to capture Leader I wouldn't need to be taking hostages for cash in the first place."
"Yeah."
Whumpee's voice is getting softer and more slurred by the second. Whumper had noticed the change happening, but that last word was just pitiful. Whumper stands, going over to check on their hostage. They'd gone pale and the puddle of blood under their chair had grown significantly.
"You're not doing too hot, are you?" Whumper asks, squatting in front of Whumpee.
Whumpee shakes their head.
"At this rate you'll bleed out before anyone comes to save you."
"They're not coming," Whumpee says again, their voice still weak.
Whumper realizes with a start that Whumpee is tearing up. Not in the way that they did when Whumper had roughed them up for the camera. That had just been a pain response. This is genuine emotional distress.
"You're upset."
"Of course 'm upset, asshole," Whumpee slurs, the tears falling. "The fuck do you think I am?"
"Good to see you've still got your fire. But there's no reason to be upset. You're going to be fine."
"Fuck off."
"I mean it. Let's go over your options, hm? One: Your team comes for you and pays your ransom and you get to go home. Two: Your team comes for you, kills me, and you get to go home. Three: Your team doesn't come for you, and you get to stay here with me. You're going to survive no matter what."
"You told them you'd kill me if they don't come before tommorow."
"Yes, well, I was hoping to inspire a sense of urgency. Doesn't seem to have worked. I could kill you, I guess, but I'm starting to get the impression that you may be more useful then that. If your friends abandon you here, that may put you in a position where you're willing to give me some information about them. Saves me having to torture someone for it. Besides, one of my employees just kicked it so I'm in the market for new blood."
"You want me to... work for you?"
"Again, I could kill you instead if you're not going to be useful to me. I'm still deciding."
"I'd be a waste of resources. I'm not good for anything." Whumpee starts to shiver, the chains making soft clinking sounds.
"You believe that? Is that why you think they're not coming for you?"
Whumpee nods.
Something inside Whumper cracks just a little as they stare at Whumpee - pale and trembling with silent tears leaving tracks in the blood and dirt on their face.
"Alright. Let's get you stitched up. You're not bleeding out on my watch. I really don't have the energy to dispose of a body tonight."
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linecrosser · 2 months
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Febwhump 2024 - Day 17 - Hostage Situation
SQH is a capable man too, no need to rescue him, MBJ, see, he got it under control!
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mochinek0 · 4 months
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Daminette December 2023: 28-I'm Not Crying
This was not the day Marinette and Damian had expected. They had gone into town to grab some more paint and ended up in a hostage situation with some of the Penguin's goons. They had their guns pointed at them.
Mari noticed that they didn't seem to understand or have full control over the situation. The guy infront of them seemed jumpy and he kept tapping his finger on the trigger, as if he was expecting something. She noticed a rock hurtling towards the window and shoved Damian. Just as the rock hit the glass, the guy slammed his finger on the trigger and hit Marinette in the thigh.
As the bats burst into the building, Damian had taken off his blazer and began to tear his shirt into shreds. He took no notice of the people of Gotham pointing and gasping at his scarred back. He quickly tied his shirt around Marinette's thigh, hoping to stop the bleeding. When police and medic arrive on the scene, he went with her in the ambulance.
Marinette woke up to a bright white room. As she looked around, she noticed Damian asleep on a chair, holding her hand.
"Are you okay?" Marinette questioned, squeezing his hand.
Damian quickly shot up, "Marinette!"
"Are you okay" she asked again.
"Me!" he shouted, "You were shot!"
Mari could feel her eyes well up with tears.
"I apologize for yelling at you, Habibiti." Damian whispered, "I don't want to see you like that, ever again. You were in pain and you were bleeding and-"
Mari opened her arms out for him. Damian crawled into the hospital bed.
"Please, Habibiti." he whispered again.
Marinette could see how much pain she had caused him. She had made her stoic boyfriend cry.
"I didn't mean to make you cry." she whispered back.
"I am not crying." Damian declared.
Mari smiled, "My mistake. I'm interrupting your brooding with the invisible rain cloud over you."
Damian hugged her tighter and she softly brushed his hair. She cuddled into him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and fell back to sleep.
The Waynes closed the door softly, not wanting to interrupt. They knew Damian could sometimes be hostile when his emotions came out. Bruce just smiled at the closed door.
'She's a good pick, Son.'
"I think we should give them ten minutes." Bruce declared.
"Uh, B." Dick called out.
Bruce turned to his eldest.
"You're gonna have to talk with the nurses. Apparently, Damian made a nurse cry and she threatened to quit." he answered, sheepishly, "They ended up changing her to a different room, for now."
Bruce sighed and began walking back toward the nurses' station.
TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl@a-star-with-a-human-name@meme991001@vixen-uchiha@abrx2002@alysrose-starchild@fandom-trapped-03@dood-space@moonlightstar64@saltymiraculer@marveldcedits20@09shell-sea09@icerosecrystal@animegirlweeb@insane-fangirl-of-everything@blueblossombliss@nickristus-dreamer@megawhitleycalderonpaganus@missmadwoman@meira-3919@princessdaisysolosyourfaves@blep-23@fangirlingfanatic@darkhinauniverse@ravenr22@im-a-satanic-ritual@ravennm84@bianca-hooks123@a-slytherinish-gryffindor@starling218
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anguishmacgyver · 9 months
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gaycragula · 9 days
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Hello there
Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO
cheers mate 🙏
Lost and Found
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Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist
The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.
It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before  you could get up yourself.
Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels. 
Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same. 
“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”
. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment. 
Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?
The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents. 
Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents? 
They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.
They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.
It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.
Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.
Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?
You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand. 
On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled  back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.
It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.
A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form. 
—-----------------------
Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?
They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible. 
It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”
“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors. 
The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here. 
He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk. 
He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. “Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly. 
Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.
“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.
“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”
Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team. 
Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.
The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago. 
It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down. 
He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear. 
You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.
Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”
“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there. 
“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.
“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”
You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return. 
It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement. 
“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.
“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.
“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?” 
Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.
“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.
It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible. 
The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt. 
Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.
Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.
Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.
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whumperofworlds · 6 months
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Absolutely love it when a Whumper takes a Whumpee hostage via grabbing them and holding a gun/sword to their head/neck. The team/Caretaker. Stopping dead in their tracks. Maybe the Whumper told them to drop their weapons or else Whumpee gets it. And the team/Caretaker having no choice but to drop their weapons and do what Whumper said. Or or they told them to give the Macguffin to them. And the team/Caretaker having to give it to them.
What could you even do in a hostage situation like that? It's so good! 👀
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elisabethrosewrites · 19 days
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"How much do you care for your Whumpee?" Whumper asked Caretaker in a nonchalant tone.
Caretaker glares viciously at him. "They don't mean anything to me." They tell the boldfaced lie with as much confidence as they can muster.
"Is that so?" Whumper asks, amused this time. "So if for example, I had Whumpee bound and gagged in the back of my car, that would mean nothing to you?"
"Nothing at all," Caretaker replies, the lie hurt but they had to protect Whumpee.
Whumper fixed Caretaker with a calculating stare. "Well then, I suppose I won't be needing them anymore." He lifted his phone to his ear. "Hear that Henchman? You can dispose of the brat now."
Ice rushed into Caretaker's lungs. All their bravado slipping away. "No!" They shouted.
"I thought they meant nothing to you?"
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Yume de Mita Ano Ko no Tame ni Ep 02
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jennifer jareau x daughter reader. She is 12 and gets into a hostage situation on a school field trip. Jj, will, and the team have to save her and the others
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Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau X Daughter reader
Request: jennifer jareau x daughter reader. She is 12 and gets into a hostage situation on a school field trip. Jj, will, and the team have to save her and the others
Third person pov...
Y/N Jareau and her Best friend were almost jumping up and down in excitement like the rest of the class was as they neared the museum where they were going for their Field trip.
The little Jareau had been waiting for this day all year and was very excited to finally be going on it. "We have now arrived, please stay seated until we have stopped students!" Yelled Mr Tracy Y/Ns teacher.
This caused a commotion amongst the kids, they all started yelling excited and standing up in their sears as their teacher slouches in his seat, Mrs Hill just sighs at her companion and stands up facing the group of about 40 kids.
"He said QUIET!" She yells effectively making the bus silent not one student dared to speak after Mrs Hill shouted at them, she could be scary when she wanted.
A full 5 minutes if silence passes before the kids all start tlaking excitedly they could see the museum coming up, they all jumped in their seats as the coach finally parked and they could get out.
Once they were outside the teachers began getting the students into groups and paired with a buddy, Y/N and B/F/N where paired together which the two friends loved.
"Okay students, we are now going in stick with your group if you do go off take your buddy with you" called Mrs Hill over the noise, the large group began making their way into the museum.
Y/N and B/F/N instantly break away from the group and wonder off on their own, Y/N had lots of information about the exhibition ls they go into thanks to her Uncle Spencer.
As the two laugh and walk around, outside the building a large van is parked, 5 men all get out dressed in black holding duffle bags and guns
"Let's go" yells the leader.
Just two hours later all hell breaks loose, a group of about 5 men dressed in black storm the museum and puts it in lockdown pulling guns on the people inside including Y/Ns class.
"Shut up the lot of ya!" Yells the leader, over the incom making everyone in the museum hear him, Y/N and B/F/N quickly hide in on of the exhibitions, they hide in a small corner to small for an adult to get to but smaller enough to two teens to sit in.
B/F/N shakes with fear as the leader threatens everyone in the museum, anyone hiding will be taken to the rest fonthe group if they are found. "It's like a sick game of hide a seek" mutters Y/N, she was scared but couldn't let her friend see.
"What would mum do in this situation" mutters the teen trying to remember what her mum taught her, 'stay calm and don't do anything rash, listen and be submissive' thinks Y/N to herself.
They mostly likely have control over the cameras and door locks if they are seem then they will be killed. Y/N racks her brain before grabbing her phone she forgot about it.
B/F/N looks up from her crying as she felt Y/N rummaging around for something. "Ah ha! Found it" she exclaimed it was her phone, quickly the 12 year old pulls open contacts ans calls her Mum.
5 seconds later the woman picks up. "Mum help me!" Says Y/N.
Back in Quantico...
JJ had jsut said goodbye to her daughter she was super excited for her trip to the museum. "Have a great time sweetie!" Yells JJ waving to her excited Daughter the H/C girl waves back equally excited.
As the coach leaves the school JJ makes her way back to the car and drives herself to work. Once she arrives she sees the team gathered around the pull pen talking.
"Morning JJ, Y/N get on the coach okay?" Asks Emily turning the conversation onto Y/N, the whole team knew she was going on a field trip that day.
JJ smiles at them "yeah the coach jsut left, she'll have so much fun" smiles the Blonde, the team then syart Woking after they get a glare from Bossman.
Two hours later JJ is busy writing up a case they had two weeks ago when her phone rings, confused the woman answers wondering why her daughter is calling.
"Hey-Mum help me!" Yells the distressed voice of her daughter the girl sounded terrified. JJ instantly stood up phone next to her ear. "Mum! The museum has been taken over ! It's a hostage situation help us!" Yells Y/N sounding hysterical as she explains.
"Dont worry Honey, I'm on my way the team will be there soon stay put and don't been seen" she exclaims being running from her office ans into the bullpen.
This alarms the team making Hotch abd Rossi run out of their offices and the team surround JJ trying to calm the scared woman. "It's Y/N there's a hostage situation at the museum she's at!" She exclaims crying.
Hotch gets a phone call. "Yes ma'am, yes I understand, we will be there" he says then ends the call and turns to the team in front of him. "Looks like we arw the rapid response team wheels up, we meet with the police department there" he says, the team waste no time and rush out the doors.
While doing this JJ calls Will and explains tk him, being a detective he's apart of the department helping the FBI out. Once they arrive they arrange contact with the leader.
After 5 grueling hours later the snipers get a good shot at the group of men and take them out freeing the civilians trapped inside, The BAU rush in Hotch infront.
JJ is the one that finds her Daughter, they wee hiding in the dinosaur exhibition in between a Trex and display cabinet.
Y/N and B/F/N had been playing I spy while waiting, as the door opens they freeze, holding their hands over each others mouth to keep quiet.
As they door the footsteps get louder and JJ appears in their vision, suddenly Y/N was jumping at her Mum sobbing loudly as JJ holds her tightly.
She then talks into her radio. "I found them hotch, they are safe" she says sniffling and holding her arm out to Y/Ns best friend to instantly runs into her arms.
Both girls cry happy to be safe, JJ and her group walk the two girls out of the museum, B/F/N spots her parents runs off leaving JJ and Y/N to find Will.
The man had been pacing back nad forth waiting for his wife and daughter to come out, when he spots them he runs over almost knocking them over as he holds them kissing his wife and daughter on the head holding them.
"Your safe now darlin' don't worry we aren't letting you out of our sight for a while now" mutters the man getting a laugh out of his family.
The end!
Hope you liked this oneshot, so sorry for the late I've been busy with a project fir class and haven't had time to write these oneshots.
Requests are open!
Word count: 1260
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sowhumpful · 9 months
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patchworkorphan · 4 months
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Heroic Betrayal: part four
Read part one here
Continued from this
TW: Blood
*~*~*~*~*
The next thing Hero remembered they were in a cell on a bed, the cuffs still firmly around their wrists. They didn’t remember how they got there, or where they were, something Hero could no doubt credit to Flynn. Though Hero felt the salt trail of tears hardened around the corner of their eyes and down their cheeks.
So much for not using their power on me.
They were thankful Flynn had left them with their scabbard at least, straps still wrapped tight around their chest, scabbard reassuring on their back. They could grab their daggers anytime.
As soon as Flynn took these stupid handcuffs off, Hero thought mulishly, staring down at their trapped hands balanced in between their bent knees.
There was a door opening somewhere nearby and Hero raised their head to look at the cell bars, waiting for whoever it was to come gloat. Somewhere, in the dark side of their mind, a sad, quiet voice wanted nothing more than to see Flynn’s stupid face on the other side of the bars.
Instead, it was Villain who appeared. Hero struggled to keep their face neutral. They didn’t want to show Villain what impact they left on them. Villain and their stupid fucking shadows. Hero fixed Villain with a bored stare, resting their head back against the cold wall.
“Miss me?” Hero asked, wanting to celebrate that their voice didn’t betray them. Unlike Flynn.
Villain just stared, cocking a brow at Hero. Then the shadows slipped from their palms and under their clothes, slowly, dreadfully slowly, dripping, slithering along the ground and through the bars of the cell. Hero’s heart hammered against their chest, but they forced themselves not to move. Not to react. That’s what Villain wanted, for them to scream and cry.
Fine. Maybe they would, but Villain would damn fucking sure have to work for it.
“If you want to give me a hug, Villain you can come in here and do it yourself.”
“Cute,” said Villain, cocking their head to the side, a smile slipping onto their face, “but I think I’ll leave that for Flynn.”
Hero’s heart panged at that, and they hated themselves for it. They shouldn’t be sad. They should be angry. Pissed off, but their stupid little heart ached at the mention of Flynn, and they couldn’t wrestle the feeling away.
“What was it like?” Villain asked, leaning their hands through the bars and clasping them together. Their eyes shining with malice, “realising your best friend and greatest ally was all lies. Did it hurt? I bet it hurt.”
“Ehh. You win some, you lose some,” Hero shrugged, subtly retracting their feet to their chest to evade the shadowy claws that were crawling up the legs of the bedframe.
“Ah. You seem more confident than before. Have you had time to process it all? Compartmentalise? Is that what they taught you during Hero training? Maybe I’ll ask Flynn…”
Hero smiled, the result humourless and wan. “You do that.”
The cold was the first sign that the shadows were on them. A hand wrapped around Hero’s ankle, slowly pulling their leg down. “What about you?” Hero asked, wanting to take their focus off the shadows pulling at them.
Villain’s eyebrows raised in question. “What about me?”
“You must have missed him,” Hero continued, nonchalant. “I mean when Flynn was pretending to be my friend. The late nights, the early mornings. The stakeouts… we got close. Maybe they were lying to me about being a villain and a traitor, but still… all that time they spent with me they weren’t with you. How does that feel?”
Villain didn’t answer. Instead, they drew their arm back sharply and the shadows yanked Hero down the bed. Hero kicked and fought, but they were struggling against air and shadows. With their hands locked uselessly in front of them and without their powers Hero could do nothing as the shadows kept dragging Hero towards the bars where Villain stood.
“You’re not worth the effort,” Villain spat as they reached up and pressed their actual cold hand to Hero’s throat, keeping their chin up and forcing them to look into Villain’s cool black eyes, burning with an old kind of hatred.
“Mmm,” Hero said, clearing their throat with a slight cough that highlighted Villain’s hands on their throat. “Maybe you should ask Fly—”
Villain cut Hero off by squeezing their hand around Hero’s throat. Hero pulled back, but it was as if a wall was behind them squishing them towards the bars, to Villain’s hand and their unyielding grip. Hero couldn’t even use their hands to free themselves because they were squished between their rib cage and the iron bars of the cell.
Eventually Villain let go and Hero pushed back a little, gasping in lungfuls of air.
“I don’t even know what he sees in you,” Villain hissed, and Hero looked up through their lashes, still wheezing for oxygen and said: “my devil may care charm, perhaps.”
A hand gripped the back of Hero’s head and slammed their nose into the bars in front of them. Hero gripped the bars on instinct when a loud resounding crunch echoed through Hero’s head, along with their sharp cry of pain. Warm blood started flowing down their nose and lips, dripping passed their chin and onto their shirt.
“Motherfucker,” Hero gasped out. Then their head was shoved down again and Hero cried out in pain, the impact hitting their bridge square on the bars and causing the blood to gush, some going down the back of their throat and Hero coughed, the taste of iron staining their mouth. Enraged Hero spit some of the blood into Villain’s stupid, smirking face.
Villain smiled and it seemed to suck all confidence from Hero’s very soul. A smile so dark it struck fear straight to Hero’s heart.
“Ah. I see now what he likes about you. You look perfect when you’re bleeding and scared.”
Hero couldn’t help themselves as the words spilled from their mouth: “you creep. At least buy me dinner first.”
Then Hero was forced onto their knees by the shadows holding them. Villain grabbed Hero’s chin, tilting their head side to side, examining them. Hero tried to push back, to stand up, to do anything. But the shadows kept them exactly how Villain wanted them.
“There. Beautiful,” Villain said. Hero’s blood was dripping onto Villain’s hand, but they didn’t seem to care. Hero sucked in a breath through gritted teeth and choked on some of the blood, sputtering slightly. Villain’s eyes seared into Hero’s soul, watching them struggle and revelling in it. Villain pressed their hand that was soaked in Hero’s blood to Hero’s cheek, wiping the remnants on Hero before straightening up properly.
Villain released them and Hero fell to all fours, coughing out the blood onto the concrete floor. Painting the miserable grey, a bright red. When Hero looked up again Villain was gone, but the fear they had trapped in Hero’s chest was still very much there.
Lingering.
Hero retreated to the back wall of the cell, sitting on the cot again and resting their head back against the wall, waiting for the blood to stop falling and cursing themselves.
What kind of idiot were they to be stuck here? Hero should have told Sidekick when they got the tip about Villain… they should have told them that they were going to rough Villain up a bit, get the information they needed on Other Villain’s whereabouts and beat the shit out of them. Just a little revenge for touching a hair on Sidekick’s innocent head.
Even if they managed to catch Villain and mete out justice on Other Villain, they would have beaten the ever-living shit out of the wrong person, and that was something Hero didn’t want to think about in that moment.
That Flynn…
Their Flynn was the one who put Sidekick in the med bay.
Sidekick, who was still in the med bay, where Hero should be, but no. Instead, they were here, powerless and bleeding and it was all their fault.
*~*~*~*~*
Continued here
The Orphanage, or, the tag-list: @princess-bubble-blossom @morning-star-whump
57 notes · View notes
quinncupine · 8 months
Note
So glad your request are open I love your writing! Here’s a request for you, Deku x fem reader where he’s out on patrol and calls his s/o to check up on her and she doesn’t answer, so he goes home and and sees someone holding the reader hostage and he saves her. Protective worried Izuku wins my heart every time lol
I definitely got a little carried away with this one. This request was a bit similar to the last one, so I took a few liberties, but I hope you'll enjoy it all the same!
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Failsafe
Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Female Reader
Word count: ~7,600
Warnings: Blood, mild language, guns, explosvies, violence
MASTERLIST
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The phone buzzed for a second time in his pocket. With a distracted sigh, he pulled it out, only getting a momentary glance at the caller's I.D. Your picture lit up the screen, and he couldn't help the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips. He moved to answer it, but someone laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Deku, the negotiator just finished the call." Detective Tsukauchi said with a grim look. "Dynamight just arrived as well."
Izuku glanced back down at the phone and declined the call with a promise to call you back once this situation had been handled.
The command center that had been hastily assembled outside of the museum buzzed with activity. Officers had scattered about, all running orders and securing the perimeter of the increasing amount of curious onlookers. Evening had set upon them, bathing the area in golden rays blended with the flashing lights of the nearby cruisers.
Both men headed towards the back of a S.W.A.T. vehicle where Dynamight stood, grumbling about something to a man right outside the truck.
"Dynamight!" Deku called to his old friend as they approached, "It's good to see you! We'll not under these conditions, I suppose."
Hearing his name on familiar lips, he tensed, and turned to glare at the bright beam of a smile being shot his way. "Of course, you'd be here," was his apparent greeting.
"I'm glad you're here," Tsukauchi said to the feisty hero with a nod. "I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation at hand."
"Yeah, a bunch of rich ditz's got themselves kidnapped during their own fundraiser." He snipped, crossing his arms. "The idiots robbing the joint made a mistake during their little heist and decided to make things worse."
Tsukauchi cleared his throat. "Um, well, yes I suppose you could put it that way." Then he turned his attention to the man Katsuki had been talking to earlier. "This is Agent DeLuca. He's our chief negotiator tonight. He'll fill you in on the rest."
"Right," the older man nodded, looking between the three of them, "I've made contact with their leader. He didn't have much to say except for a list of outrageous demands."
"Outrageous?" Izuku asked, curious.
"Yeah," the man chuckled before turning serious. "They want a helicopter landed on that roof," he pointed to the museum, "five fresh pizza's waiting in said helicopter, along with four crates of top shelf sake. They want it all within twenty-eight minutes, or they'll execute their first hostage. And by my count, we have twenty-four minutes left."
"Pizza and booze?" Katuski scoffed. "What're they playin' at?"
"Twenty-eight minutes is a pretty specific timeframe." Izuku cocked his head. "And with those kind of demands It almost seems like they're waiting for something. Stalling."
The phone in his pocket buzzed again but this time he simply reached in and turned it off, mind swirling with possible theories. They had to be aiming toward a bigger goal here. What weren't they seeing?
"Do we have eyes and ears inside?" He peeked into the truck where a wall of screens shone through.
"We managed to patch through to the security system, but they've been hacked. They're just playing the same loop on repeat. We do have a specialist currently working on overriding it, but that's gonna take time." The detective rubbed his head while he explained. "From what we can gather, they still have roughly 18 guests and staff held hostage."
"And that quirk barrier is preventing anyone from getting in," Izuku murmured, examining the building. It emitted a faint purple aura. "I bet holding that up takes a lot of stamina. That could be why they were on such a specific time frame."
"Our men tried to get through." Tsukauchi frowned. "Anyone who touched that thing ended up numb from the shock. That's why you two are here. It might be possible to break through with your quirks. The only problem is alerting the captors."
"They said they'd start shooting the moment anyone stepped foot in that building. Agent DeLuca explained. "At the moment, we're in a deadly stalemate."
Tsukauchi's phone rang, and he excused himself.
Izuku pinched his bottom lip in thought as he faced the building. There were a few ways they could go about this. With Dynamight here, it should make things a little easier. However, he needed to be sure to keep the lives of the civilians as his first priority. So maybe if he-
"Deku," Tsukauchi grabbed his shoulder, pulling him from his ruminations. "Your wife is calling."
He blinked. You were calling again. When he instinctively reached into his pocket wondering how the detective new that, he paused, finally noticing the phone in his hand. Then he noticed the deep-set frown on his face.
A million questions scrambled through his head, but he locked them down in favor of taking the phone. "Hey, is everything alright?"
"Deku, listen closely," you said quietly. Your voice didn't sound right. A slightly slurred warbled edge.
had the baby hairs on his neck on end. "You're going to…to let the men in the museum leave unscathed. You will not pursue. Do this, and everyone gets -" You hitched your breath "- everyone gets to live."
A lingering silence pressed between the two of you. Your labored breaths a loud echo to his ears. It was wrong. So very wrong.
"Are you hurt?" He finally spoke, locking eyes with a concerned detective.
A shuddered sob answered him. It locked his heart in a vice grip to hear you so frightened. So vulnerable. How long had you been like that? How many calls did you try to make to him, and he simply ignored them all? Right when you needed him most. An equal flood of guilt and rage filled his veins. He could feel the sparks of his quirk begging to be let out in the wake of his anger, but he had to reel it in for your sake.
Behind your erratic panic, he could hear it.
The faint puffs of air around your own tattered breaths. Someone was there. Someone was there with you. And if he didn't act carefully, your life would be on the line.
"You have tw-twenty minutes to either s-save the innocent people in that building or come f-find me. There's not…there's not enough time to do both. If not…" you faltered before taking in a sharp drag of air and screaming. "Don't do it, Izuku! Save them! It's a trap. There's a-"
The call abruptly ended.
He stared at the screen. Too many conflicting emotions were battling for control to think clearly. Someone, a villain, had taken you. That much he was certain. There were more men than those five stuck in the museum. But it didn't add up. Even if there was someone from this crew working from the outside, there would simply not be enough time to plan something like this on the spot. Unless…unless it had been orchestrated from the start.
"Deku!" Katsuki snatched the phone out of his hands with an annoyed growl. "Get your head out of your ass. What was that about? You sayin' there's more of these losers?"
Izuku flinched at his words, not realizing he'd been mumbling.
"It's-she…they-" he locked eyes with Katsuki, "-they have her."
He straightened, glancing between the detective and Izuku. "Explain."
And so he did.
A nervous energy he couldn't quite tamper down ran rampant through his body. He itched to just take off and leave to go find you right then and there. But there was more to this than they realized, and if he ran headlong without forethought, it could put not just you but the other hostages in danger.
"That bastard!" Katsuki snapped. "They want to divide our forces. They think they can escape that way."
Yes, Izuku figured as much, but it still didn't change the fact that you were in some slimy villain's hand. He'd already tracked your location from the phone. It pinged from home, but whether you were still with it was up in the air. Those calls he'd missed seemed to be mocking him now.
He couldn't forgive himself for that.
You were calling for help.
You were calling for help, and he didn't answer.
You were calling for help, and he didn't come the one time you truly needed him.
What kind of lousy hero was he?
"Stop that," Katsuki slapped him upside the head, non to gentle either. "I know what you're thinking idiot. This isn't your fault. You just happened to be their target."
"What?" He asked, rubbing the back of his head.
"If they actually put a few braincells together to plan this thing, then it would make sense to have a backup plan. A failsafe of sorts." He tossed a glare towards the building before focusing back on Izuku. "They must've known your route. They must've planned for you to be in the area. What better way to take you out of the equation than to create your own hostage situation? Draw the heroes away."
"I believe Dynamight's got the right idea. They have more men involved than we thought. We'll need to revise our plan." Tsukauchi turned to relay this new information to the command tent.
"We're wasting time." Izuku turned to Katsuki, eyes wide and almost pleading. "I need to go. We're on a time limit. Whatever he has planned….I have to save her."
"You don't think I know that?" He scoffed. "I can handle things here easily. I bet those dumbasses didn't expect me to show up. My route doesn't fall into this sector."
Izuku nodded, grateful that he had arrived, then paused. "Why are you here?"
"Because I had to track down that bastard mugger that managed to escape through here. And if you thought I'd let you steal my crook, then you're dead wrong." He puffed up, daring Izuku to challenge him.
"First time a mugging actually worked in our favor then." He chuckled ironically and grabbed Katsuki's shoulder, his small smile slipping. "Thank you. I'll radio you as soon as I get her back."
"Yeah, yeah," he shrugged off his hand and shooed him away. "Now get out of here before I have to show you up again."
"Wait, Deku," Tsukauchi jogged back over, "I'm coming with you."
"I appreciate it, but I'm faster airborne." Izuku explained, impatience rearing itself in the form of a harried sigh.
"I know, but you're here under our jurisdiction. This kidnapping falls under that. I'm coming." He pulled out his keys and headed towards his car. "We can't rush into this without our own plan. Dynamight can handle things on this end, but i'm coming as backup. There are too many lives at stake here. If you barge in there with quirks blazing and emotions clouding your judgment, then it could spook the boss into doing something we'd all regret."
Logically, Izuku knew this. He did. But he also felt that overstored anger directing itself towards the detective. Izuku could handle a hostage situation. He's handled them before, and he most likely will have to handle them again. Then the rational side to his brain told him it would be good to have backup in case things did end up going wrong. Regardless, he couldn't waste any more time by arguing, so he simply nodded and got in the car.
The moment Tsukauchi started the car, he peeled out past the gathered crowd, straight towards Izuku's home. The same home he shared with you.
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The house was silent aside from the low buzz of the television in the other room. It played some show Izuku had been watching earlier before he left for his evening patrol. A hero documentary he's made you watch hundreds of times already. You absentmindedly listened to it as you cooked dinner, making sure to make leftovers for him to reheat once he returned from work.
After making a plate for yourself and storing some in the fridge for him, you dumped everything in the sink for a soak with the intent to come back later to clean. The meal smelled good if your rumbling stomach had anything to say about it. Washing up your hands, you took your plate into the dining room where you could finish watching the show.
On the way there, the lights flickered overhead before the power went out. You paused, staring around in the darkness to see if it would come back on. With the television off, the lifelessness seem quite foreboding as you stood all alone. Left in the quiet of the apartment, you set the plate down and headed into the living room where your phone sat on the coffee table. A quick call to the power company should clear this up.
When you stepped into the living room, using muscle memory to feel your way to the coffee table, the lights suddenly flickered back to life. You blinked rapidly to readjust your eyes as light flooded your vision. Glancing around the empty room, you wondered what had made the power surge like that.
"Weird," you whispered to yourself as you picked up the remote to turn the television back on.
One look at the flatscreen, and you gasped, dropping the remote. A dark, murky shape loomed behind you in the reflection, and before you even had time to react, a sweaty hand wrapped around your mouth and pulled you right off your feet.
You were slammed down into the carpet with a hard smack to your side. The attacker didn't give you much reprieve as you were hoisted back up and thrown onto the coffee table, smashing a vase full of flowers and knocking everything off as he dragged you across the wood surface.
It took a few seconds for your brain to pick up on what happened, and you shoved your legs under his arms and kicked as hard as you could in the groin. He yelped and let go, stumbling back into the couch, clutching himself.
That defense only bought you a limited amount of time. You scrambled off the table and landed on your knees, still a bit disoriented. The phone had landed underneath it, undamaged, in a stroke of luck. Dropping to your stomach, you reached under and nabbed the device.
You knew exactly who to call.
The intruder's hands latched onto your ankle just as you gripped the phone. He pulled your leg so hard you were sure something popped out of its socket. You screamed and twisted over, kicking at him wildly.
He didn't bother trying to hide his face. The man towered over you. He sported a neatly trimmed silver beard with matching square eyes that drilled an icy glare into your own.
"Stop fucking moving!" He growled as you kicked his knee and he doubled over, releasing you.
"Get away!" you screamed out, scurrying to your feet and dashing around the couch in an effort to make it to the door. "Help!" With the phone in your hands, you dialed in the number. He could respond faster than any police. And you would just feel better hearing his voice.
The phone rang twice before it disconnected. There wasn't much time to think about it as you made it to the door. You turned the knob, but a much larger hand snatched your wrist at the same time. The door slammed shut along with your hope.
He towered over you for a terrifying moment before he rammed you into the door. Your body dropped to the floor like a sack of rocks. Pain seared up against your spine where you had impacted.
The phone landed out of reach, corner of the screen smashed. You just prayed it would work.
Still disoriented, you didn't react much when his burly hands seized your throat and easily lifted you off the floor. Panic set in. You didn't even realize what had happened until it was too late. When it did catch back up, you scratched anything you could reach in an exhausted effort to release the pressure on your neck. The only sounds that managed to escape were wheezing gasps that held no form.
Regardless of how this scenario ended, you knew it wouldn't end well for you. This man had strength on his side. Fighting him would be a mistake, so you had to figure out a way to escape. Or, at the very least, call for help. Unless you could reach your phone, you were screwed.
Slippered feet struggled to try to pry him off you. His fingers only seemed to tighten further. Black ebbed at the corners of your vision, and pain blossomed up your head. Thinking, let alone, fighting seemed nearly impossible.
As your swirling vision dimmed, your foot managed to connect with his stomach. You dug your heel in as hard as you could. The fingers around your neck loosened slightly, and the only thing you could think to do was bite down on his hand.
He yelped and threw you against the door where you slumped forward onto your knees, gasping for air. The phone sat within reach, but first you swung out, and sucker punched him right where it hurts most for a second time. He roared and fell backward.
You used the opportunity to dive for your phone and redial Izuku's number, praying he would answer quickly. With a tight grip on the phone, you launched to your feet, swaying dangerously as you stumbled for balance. That hit to your head did more damage than you thought. You were almost sure you had a concussion.
Turning to the door, you glanced down and your heart sunk. It had gone to voicemail again. What was happening? He always answered.
"You're not going anywhere!" He yelled, staggering back to his feet.
Shit. You couldn’t think clearly and wasted too much time stumbling around. Now, he stood between you and the door, giving you quite the death glare.
"Please, just take whatever you want!" you tensed as he stepped closer. "Just…please just let me go."
"That's kinda hard when it's you that I need, now ain't it sweetheart?" He sneered, grabbing hold of the collar of your shirt and twisting you around into a headlock. "Now come on, we've got a schedule to keep."
He squeezed hard, forcing you to shuffle forward, away from the door. He wanted to keep you here? Why? If this had been kidnapping, you were sure he would've taken you somewhere else. Why keep you here unless… Actually, you didn't want to think of those implications.
"Sit," he ordered, not giving you much choice as he shoved you into one of the dining room chairs.
You could try to run again, but you doubted you'd get very far before he caught up to you. And you weren't too keen on figuring out if he really wanted to keep you alive or not. He already looked pissed off as it was.
"What do you want?" you asked, hating how wobbly your voice sounded.
"I want you to make a call," he said, placing a hand on the back of the chair and the table, essentially trapping you between them, "to that little hero of yours."
He wanted you to call Izuku? That was strange. Usually, villains try to steer clear of heroes, not invite them to their crimes. He must have some plan to try to lure Izuku here to do who knows what. As much as you wanted him to come, you also didn't want to walk him right into a trap.
You steeled your nerves and glared up at him. "No."
"Oh, so you wanna play hero now, do ya?" He grinned. "Think you're ready to play in the big leagues, huh? Let's see if ya are!"
His hand moved too quickly. You nearly tumbled out of the chair as his palm struck your cheek. Aching streaks of pain weaved across your stinging skin.
"Don't test me." He leaned so close you could smell the tobacco on his breath. "You're gonna want to make that call, sweetheart, trust me."
He leaned across the table and dragged a large duffle bag into view. How long that had been sitting there, you weren't sure. You actually weren't even sure how he got into the locked apartment in the first place. It seemed a little late to worry about that now, though. With a sadistic smirk, he unzipped the bag and let you have a peek inside. It nearly made your heart stop.
"Now," He pulled out a stack of notecards from his coat and forced them into your hands. "Your job is simple. All you have to do is read these cards. Simple enough, eh?"
As you scanned the cards, your stomach flipped. Did he really expect you to read this? You were too distracted to see him pull out your phone until he grabbed your wrist and used your thumb to unlock it. He put it on speaker as the phone rang. It barely rang once before it went straight to voicemail for a third time. You were starting to worry Izuku had been hurt and unable to answer somehow.
"Hmm," the villain stared at the phone thoughtfully. "Guess he doesn't care so much about ya, huh?"
"Don't say that! You don't know anything about him!" You spit out, then bit your tongue, knowing you shouldn't stoop to his barbs.
"Well, I know he's too busy to answer ya darlin." He chuckled and dialed in a new number. "I'm sure the detective will be more willing to talk, yeah?"
Detective? You only knew one detective. It still struck you as odd that he would call the police on himself. But with the cards and what he had stored in that bag, you were starting to understand your role in all this.
The phone rang, and this time, someone did answer. You refused to say anything. It would be too dangerous to bring him here. Not with what he had planned.
That turned out to be the wrong decision as the man reached into his coat and brought out a handgun. He used the barrel to tap the cards.
"Deku," you whispered, glaring up at the criminal.
"Y/N? It's unusual to hear from you at this hour. Are you alright?" He sounded concerned.
"I…need to speak to Deku," you blinked hard. "Please."
A notable pause hung in the air before he hesitantly spoke. "…alright."
Tsukauchi was a smart man. One of the few who you thought could hold a candle to Izuku's analytical skills. If he could already tell something was wrong, then Izuku would pick up on it immediately.
Suddenly, his voice came on and threw you for a loop. They were already together? It must have to do with whatever these cards meant. It could be the reason he didn't answer. Izuku could be caught up in a case already. But the real question is how did the man know that, let alone know you would have Tsukauchi's number.
"Hey, is everything alright?" He sounded confused with a concerned undertone.
The cards shook in your hands as you scanned them again, debating just going off script. But with that gun looming in front of your face, you wisely decided to play nice.
"Deku, listen closely," you began quietly, knowing your voice had a slight quiver he would undoubtedly pick up on. "You're going to…let the men in the museum leave unscathed. Do this and everyone gets," those next words caught in your throat, "everyone gets to live."
They were using you as some sort of ploy to try to escape whatever situation this gang had found themselves in. Everything about this was just wrong. Now, Izuku would have to worry about rescuing you while also trying to do his job. You loathed every minute of it.
"Are you hurt?" His voice, quiet and low, betrayed the calm air he tried to maintain. A characteristic tone you've heard before. Anger and frustration just barely concealed.
The fact that he knew you were in danger filled you with a sort of relief that now he could finally do something about it. He could fix this. He always managed to fix things.
You tried to answer, but only a garbled sob of mixed syllables spilled from your mouth. It took you a moment to compose yourself again as the man huffed at you, tapping the cards impatiently with his gun.
"You have tw-twenty minutes to decide." More disturbing things were written, but you needed to warn him about what kind of trap he was walking himself into. "Don't do it, Izuku! Save them! It's a trap. There's a-"
The phone crunched in half under his brute strength and he threw it against the wall. Despite your very real fear, you managed to smirk at him. In hindsight, making a man with a gun angry was probably the worst thing to do in your situation. You learned that the hard way as he twirled the gun to his other hand and with a violent swing, he whipped the side of your head, knocking you clean off your chair.
Head throbbing, you clutched the gash just above your temple. A warm, sticky trail of dark red dripped down to your cheek.
"Got a loud mouth, don't ya?" he grinned and hauled you up only to drag you across the floor and dump your ragdoll form into the middle of the living room. You couldn't hide the panic as he knelt by your face, plopping the black duffle from the table next to him. "I'll just leave ya with a little present to greet your hero with. How does that sound. A nice parting gift."
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The drive couldn't have taken any longer in Izuku's opinion. Even if Tsukauchi flew down the road, he still wasn't getting there fast enough. A few times, he had been tempted to just jump out and fly the rest of the way there.
He bounced his leg impatiently, glaring out the window as the silence seemed to permeate the air around them.
"We'll get her back," Tsukauchi broke the silence first.
Izuku turned his attention back to his phone. The three missed calls from you berated him each time he looked. He willed his leg to still, but all that pent up adrenaline didn't have any other outlet to escape from.
"This is my fault," he mumbled.
"No, it's not. There's no way you could have predicted this. No one could." Tsuhauchi sighed, turning sharply onto the next street. This was a conversation he'd had with the young man on multiple occasions. He was starting to understand how All Might felt, practically raising the boy through high school. "The only people to blame are the criminals responsible. You know that as well as I do. Thinking that way is only falling into their trap."
He made a noncommittal sound, turning back to obsessing over the missed calls. The rest of the ride was made in silence. Izuku had gotten so lost in thought that he didn't realize they'd parked until Tsukauchi opened the door.
Silently cursing, he blinked back into reality and got out of the car. The two of them headed for the apartment building. Your last known location was here. Though Izuku had doubts that you'd still be here. Most kidnappers took their victims to secondary locations.
They burst through the lobby, startling a poor woman taking her dog out for a walk. She jumped out of the way as they rushed past, yelping when she saw Tsukauchi's drawn gun. They paid her no mind, set on reaching their target.
Izuku took the lead. He raced up the stairs with a spark of his quirk, only stopping when he reached the right floor. Tsukauchi trailed up behind him at his fastest pace. He paused when the door came into view. Closed and undamaged. Whatever lay beyond might be an entirely different story, and it had his heart racing with fear.
"Take it slow," Tsukauchi huffed when he reached the last step. "We don't know what's waiting for us."
"I know," Izuku nodded, taking a spot in front of the door.
He signaled for the detective to take the side. Whoever was in there was sure to be expecting Izuku. He would have to act quickly. When they were in position he readied Fa-jin to break down the door with a strong kick of his leg, but the moment he lifted it, that sharp stab of Danger Sense screamed at him. He tensed and prepared to dodge whatever threat was coming his way, but when nothing came, he set his foot down, examining the door with a critical eye.
"Something's not right," he whispered, hand gently grabbing the handle.
The knob turned slowly in his hand and opened the door just slightly. Danger Sense lit up his spine once again. He drew in a sharp breath when he finally saw where the danger lay.
Opening the door any further could trigger whatever nasty surprise waited inside. He let go of the handle in favor of leaning closer to try to get a glimpse of the room. From his narrow line of sight, he didn't see anything amiss. He would need to see further somehow.
A shimmering line of wire ran across the entryway.
Trap, his mind so helpfully supplied.
"Here," Tsukauchi pulled out a small mirror with a telescopic rod attached. "Use this."
Izuku took it without question. The police had all sorts of gadgets at their disposal. He was just thankful Tsukauchi was here.
As discreetly as he could, he slipped the mirror partly into the doorframe. It gave him a full view of the living room. What he saw nearly made his racing heart stall.
The room was a mess. The coffee table had been kicked over, and the couch pushed off to the side to make room for the single dining chair plopped directly into the center of the disaster. The worst part was the person he cared for most sitting… no, tied to the chair. You were slumped forward and seemingly out cold. A gash in the side of your head trailed dark sticky blood down the side of your face and onto your shirt. Even from a distance, he could tell it was still wet. Still fresh.
You were draped in a throw blanket, which he found odd. It sent alarm bells off in his head. On the other hand, this entire situation was just one blaring alarm.
He was so close. All he needed to do was figure out a way to get to you without tripping any booby traps.
Angling the mirror down, he tracked where the nearly invisible wire led to. His eyes followed it across the floor and right up to you. It threaded under the blanket that had been wrapped across your chest. As he leaned in further to try to see you better, the door creaked slightly.
It caught your attention.
You stirred with a groan and when you looked up, he could see the duct tape sealed over your mouth. As you straightened in your seat, the blanket slipped from your shoulders.
He finally realized why the wire led to you.
"Tsukauchi," Izuku whispered, a slight tremble to his voice. "I need you to evacuate the building and…and call the bomb squad."
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It took a few precious minutes, but Izuku had exited the building and now stood on the fire escape, examining the window. Another wire had been threaded around the handle. If he lifted it, it could trigger the bomb. He would need to go about this carefully.
The only good thing was that the top part of the window seemed to be unaffected. After scoping out the interior, he'd come to the conclusion that the man had fled. A smart choice. If you strap your hostage with an explosive, you don't want to be around for the aftermath. A dumb choice to target someone Izuku loved. He'd find the man later, that much he vowed. Right now, he just needed to get you as far from that bomb as possible.
He took a deep breath and in one solid strike, he shattered the top portion of the window. That startled you enough to flinch in your seat, pulling the wires taut.
"Hey, it's alright," Izuku called out softly as he navigated through the window, careful of any more surprises. "It's just me. It's Izuku."
You deflated a little, nodding to show you understood.
The moment he landed, he carefully picked his way through the room until he came face-to-face with you. Your eyes carefully tracked his movement, wary of the various strings attached to the heavy vest you were wearing. He knelt in front of the chair, cupping your bruised cheeks. At the soft contact, you squeezed your eyes shut to blink away the tears.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm right here," He kept his voice low and comforting as he offered you a small smile. "I'll get you out of this, I promise."
Then he dropped his attention down to the explosive. They had strapped you into a Kevlar vest with the clunky explosive sewn right into the fabric. The most worrisome thing was the clock. The numbers were steadily counting down.
Nearly four minutes left.
A time limit.
You did say he had twenty minutes to decide. Didn't the criminals inside the museum say something similar? They must've been working off the same clock. No wonder they gave such a specific time frame.
"Don't worry," he said, looking up when you made a muffled whine of a cry. "I've got people coming to help. People who can disarm this thing in no time." He glanced at the kitchen where you kept the knives. "I just need to get it off you first."
Your reaction caught him off guard. You wildly shook your head, careful of the wires pulling around you. He turned back to you, eyes wide, and hands held out in a pacifying gesture. You only seemed to grow more desperate, shaking your head faster.
"Hey," he laid a hand on your cheek to stop you and forced you to look in his eyes. "Okay, okay."
As you fought back your ragged breaths through your nose, he gently gripped the edges of the tape and slowly peeled it back. You winced as the tape pulled against your skin. The moment your mouth could move, you went into a panicked rant.
"You can't! You can't cut it," you cried, words jumbling over each other as you tried to push them all out at once. "There's a- a failsafe inside the vest. You cut it, and it triggers the bomb. It's the same for these wires," you eyed the wires all connected to various parts of the room. "Any of them pulls too tightly, and it explodes. But the time limit - oh my god, Izuku. It's almost up, I don't - there's no time! There's no time!"
He wrapped his scarred fingers around your chin to center your focus and shushed you before you could run out of breath. "It's going to be okay. I'm here now. I'll get you out of this." His eyes tracked over the vest again, scanning every part of it. He didn't want to tell you that the bomb squad would be at least ten more minutes. There was no time to wait for them. "I'll be right back. Trust me, I promise I'll get you out of this."
If your hands were untied, you would've reached out to stop him. Now that he had come, you were terrified of him leaving. He had a comforting presence that everyone had come to rely on as a hero. He always kept his word. If anyone could get you out of this nightmare, it would be Izuku. You just had to trust he knew what to do. Though the bomb strapped to your chest had built up a raw terror in your chest, making it hard to get even a solid breath in.
Izuku, true to his word, only disappeared for a moment before he returned, kneeling at your side with a knife. "I can disarm it."
Could he? You didn't want to doubt his skills, but you also didn't remember him ever working with bombs like this before.
"Didn't I tell you about those few weeks I spent with SWAT?" He smirked as if reading your mind. "Taught me all sorts of cool stuff." There was a hard edge to his casual tone as he pried open the front of the device to reveal the bevy of wires inside. "This was nothing compared to the kinds of stuff we did. I'll have you out in no time."
You nodded. It was about as much movement the vest would allow at the moment. You could scarcely believe a small contraption like this could be your doom in a matter of mere minutes.
"Izuku," you whispered, looking up at the ceiling as if that would put any distance from you and this death machine. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He asked, eyes flitting up to meet yours before he refocused on the wires. "This isn't your fault."
Silence fell over the room as you absorbed that. Your fingers held a death grip on the arms of your chair, pulling against the restraints. It felt as if the room grew smaller. The beeping only seemed to be getting louder by the second. Panic had nestled itself deep in your chest, spreading throughout your body as the seconds passed.
"H-how much longer?" You dared to peer down at the clock, angling your head to try to see for yourself.
He didn't answer. You watched his fingers hover over the wires, subtly glancing at the timer but refusing to speak. In other words, not long.
"How much, Izuku?" you said again, gritting your teeth.
"Two minutes," he finally ground out. "I've almost got this figured out. I just need to make sure this one is- it should be…" he trailed off, as his finger followed where the wire connected.
Two minutes.
That wasn't a lot of time. You both knew that much.
"Izuku, I don't want you dying too. Please, just go." You warbled out, straining your head up to the ceiling again to try to stop the ebb of tears. "I don't want you dying for me."
"No one is dying tonight," Izuku chose a wire and locked eyes with you. That determination you'd grown so used to seeing cemented on his face. He looked so confident, you almost believed anything was possible. Hell, maybe it was in a world with someone as determined as him. "Are you ready?"
Drawing in a forced breath, you chewed on your lip and nodded. He hesitated for just a moment before bending the wire and cutting it with the knife. The two of you sat in complete silence, breaths held as he stared at the timer. The numbers stopped just before the minute mark, and relief sagged through his body.
"See, I told you I-" the words died on his tongue as the clock beeped twice and suddenly began counting down at double the speed. "-shit!"
"Get out of here!" You tried to shove him away with what little movement you had in the restraints, wires be damned if it meant he could still survive. "Please, save yourself! Go!"
"NO!" he pulled at the bundle of wires, muttering as his eyes darted between them. "I made a promise, and I refuse to break it! There's no way I'd ever leave you!"
He picked a wire and sliced through it. You squeezed your eyes shut with a whimper.
The beeping stopped again with eight seconds to spare.
Izuku froze, body tense as he stared at the machine, daring it to start again. After a few terrifying seconds, he looked up at you, wide-eyed and slightly shaky. He swallowed, setting his face into a more composed look as he offered you a small smile.
"It worked." He breathed out.
Those unbidden tears leaked from your eyes as you drooped your head froward with a heavy sigh of relief. All that terror that you were storing had nowhere to go. Every part of you buzzed with adrenaline. You were quite literally shaking in your socks.
"Hey," he set down the knife and found your chin. "Are you okay?"
"Still got a bomb strapped to me so 'okay' is a bit relative at the moment." You coughed a harsh chuckle out. Maybe it was the frayed nerves trying to find an outlet out of your system, but you laughed again, harder this time, your body just expelling all your emotions out in the form of near hysteric laughter.
"Uh, right," he mirrored your smile and easily unhooked all the wires connected from your vest to objects around the room. Now that the main trigger had been deactivated, these were just decorations. "I think I'll let the professionals handle this vest. They should be here any minute. But I can at least get you out of those restraints."
Using the knife, he easily tore through the tape to free your arms and legs. When you had freedom of movement again, you grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close, careful of the disarmed bomb on your chest. It was still an explosive, afterall.
"Thank you," you whispered, "thank you for not leaving.
He brushed the hair out of your face and placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "I told you, I made a promise, and I never break my promises." Then he pulled back to give you a pout. "But please, don't ever tell me to leave you like that ever again. I could never even think of doing something like that. I would never abandon you, you know that, right?"
The way he looked at you made you feel like you'd kicked a puppy. But in your mind, you just wanted to protect him, too. For the moment, though, you simply nodded and buried your face into his chest, knowing you were safe with him. That you would always be safe with him.
It took another six minutes before the squad arrived and another ten tense minutes with Izuku gripping your hand the entire time to safely remove the bomb. As soon as it slipped off, you rushed into Izuku's arms, trying to entwine yourself as deep as you could with him.
"What about the other hostages? The criminals, too?" you asked, twisting your head up to look at him. "The ones you were supposed to let go?"
"Kacchan, uh, Dynamight handled it." He assured you. "He didn't even need any help taking them down. I think they were counting on this scenario working in their favor. The hostages are safe, and the criminals are in custody."
"Even…" you pinched the fabric of his uniform between your fingers, dropping your gaze to stare at the stitchwork.
"We'll find him. I won't let him get away with this." He assured you, tightening his own hold on you. "But right now, all you need to worry about is getting some rest. Well, actually, we need to get this -" he ghosted his fingertips over the cut above your temple, "-looked at first."
"I'm fine." you waved him off.
"Yeah, you will be," he agreed, pulling you over to the medic who had set up shop on the dining table, just waiting for you. "Once we get you fixed up."
With a small sigh, you sat in one of the chairs, facing the medic. Izuku, who you still had a hold of his sleeve, moved to stand behind you.
"Are you going to leave? I mean, I guess you should. There are other people out there who need you too. And with this whole mess, I'm sure there's a lot of-"
The words were just spilling out of you now, and in the back of your mind, you realized you sounded just like Izuku. You only managed to stop when he bent over and lightly bumped his forehead against yours.
"Take a breath," he gave you a fond smirk, "I'm not going anywhere. Like I said, Kacchan handled it. The only place I need to be right now is by your side."
He stood hunched just inches from your face, and all you could do was stare into his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling through those big green irises, but the biggest one shining through was his sincerity. A solace you didn't realize you needed until just this moment. The warmth he emitted was so comfortable, and the sheer exhaustion from your ordeal had you leaning back into the chair with a tired nod.
"Okay, I trust you," you mumbled, pulling his arm down so you could hug it. "You're a really good hero, Izuku."
He blushed at the soft comment and glanced at the paramedic trying to busy herself with getting her supplies out, but even she couldn't help the little smile that played on her lips.
"She's right, you know," the medic chimed in, gently cleaning your cheek of the blood. "I'd say that was the work of a top-class hero. You should be proud."
Izuku rubbed the back of his head. Years in the field and still hearing something like that overwhelmed his heart so he decided to focus back on you. Your hands were interlocked with his and casually fiddlin with his bony fingers.
A lot that could have gone wrong tonight, and he knew he would be certain to go over every detail in full to make sure those mistakes would never happen again. Not if he was going to be a hero that could protect not just you, but everyone.
Right now, though, he put his analysis on the back burner and turned his full attention to what was most important.
You.
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Taglist: @stanny-uwu @lykingart @rei165
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whumpshaped · 7 months
Text
whumptober 9
prompt list masterlist
tw blackmail, guns, implied captivity and torture, emotional whump, psychological whump, hostage situation, death threat
"You're a liar."
Whumper grinned at that, leaning in over the negotiation table. "Am I?"
"Yes, and until you're willing to be honest, this isn't going to go anywhere–" Caretaker pushed their chair back, ready to turn around and leave the room; but the gun promptly pressed against the back of their head stopped them mid-motion. "And now this. Great."
"Please, sit back down. I don't like my guests walking out in the middle of a conversation." Whumper watched with a satisfied smirk as they lowered themself back onto their seat, then grabbed an envelope and slid it across the table to Caretaker's side.
"What is this?" they asked suspiciously.
"Just a little something to help convince you that I'm being very honest here."
Caretaker swallowed and opened the envelope, taking out the stack of photos that were inside. All of them were of Whumpee: in different stress positions, with different gags and ropes and restraints, with different injuries... All of them absolutely horrifying.
"I knew you'd doubt me," Whumper went on, still cheery. "So I made sure to document the greatest moments of their captivity thoroughly. But that's not the best part! Turn them around, pet."
"I'm not your fucking pet," they snapped, countering the only thing they were able to out of sheer spite. It was really just a display of their utterly frustrating helplessness, and they both knew it.
"No, of course not. Not yet, anyway. It was just a term of endearment, no need to get all up in arms about it."
Their heart was pounding as they turned one of the photos around in their hand, immediately recognising Whumpee's handwriting. The ink was smudged in several places, there were some circular spots on it from what Caretaker assumed had been tears, and... and there was blood too. Smeared across the paper as though the writer had been bleeding from somewhere on their hand.
Please get me out of here. Please. I love you. Please come get me. Make the trade, please. I can't take it anymore.
They turned over another one; one from earlier.
This is the only communication they'll allow, on the backs of these wretched photos. I'm sorry you have to see them. I never wanted you to see anything like this. I love you. I'm sorry.
Everything hurts. I don't know how much time has passed. I'm in so much pain all the time. I can barely hold the stupid pen. Please help. I love you so much.
Caretaker please I don't know how many more of these I can write. They might take my fingers next. Please hurry. I love you, I need you to help me. I am begging you.
Caretaker threw them all back onto the table, burying their face in their hands. They were fake. They had to be. Whumpee wouldn't beg them like that. Would they?
"They loved writing those notes for you. It was the highlight of–"
"Shut the fuck up!"
Whumper laughed. "Oh, you like those, huh?"
"I'm going to fucking kill you," they choked out, shaking with anger. They looked up at Whumper with tears in their eyes, ready to crawl across the table and strangle them. "I'm going to tear you apart!"
Whumper's expression changed abruptly, going from amused to deathly serious in a split second. "Okay, let's stop with the childish shit. I've had my fun." Their eyes locked onto Caretaker's, staring them down with such intensity that they couldn't even get a word out. "Either you make the trade, or your good friend dies."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps
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Text
5
inspo
[tw language, kidnapping, captivity, hostage situation, stockholm syndrome, lima syndrome, talk of dismemberment]
They weren't supposed to get attached to the hostage.
But spending several days in a stupid little cottage with no one else to talk to seemed to have done a number on both of their psyches, with Whumpee treating them more and more like a particularly intimidating friend, and in turn... Whumper taking a liking to them.
It was ridiculous, of course. At first, Whumper suspected a trap, or an escape attempt. Why else would their hostage go on a quiet little rant about how messed up their life had been before the kidnapping? How the kidnapping had hardly made it worse, quite the contrary. How they didn't mind the restraints, not really, they were just getting really worried about blood circulation. It was the perfect way to get Whumper to loosen them so they could free themself and run.
But Whumpee stayed perfectly still the entire time. They didn't even look at Whumper. They were trembling slightly at the closeness, but they just sat there and let Whumper readjust their bonds without any indication of their desire to escape. But they must've wanted to. Right?
Whumpee kept complimenting the food, too. It was nothing fancy, mostly canned stuff and some instant oats; and yet Whumpee seemed delighted to be cared for, always making sure they thanked Whumper thoroughly.
It had to be part of a plan. It just had to be.
It didn't matter.
"Today is the deadline," Whumper announced. "You better hope they have the fucking money."
Whumpee swallowed and nodded. "What... what if they..."
"If they fucked up? Oh, I don't know. Shooting you in the head feels like a waste. Maybe I'll cut off an arm and send it to them..."
It felt wrong to say that. It felt cruel. It was cruel, but that was supposed to be the point! They weren't supposed to care about the hostage's opinion!
"I can live without an arm," Whumpee mumbled, and Whumper froze in their tracks.
"What?"
"N-nothing. Nothing. I'm sorry."
"What the fuck did you say?" They walked over and grabbed Whumpee by the neck of their shirt, barely able to tell what made them want to hear that again so badly. Was it because they wanted to slap Whumpee for it? Because they thought their victim had implied their family wouldn't pay, rendering the plan useless? Because of perceived defiance? Or was it... something else?
"I said– I said I c-can live without an arm," they choked out. "I'm sorry, I didn't– I didn't mean anything by it, I want to keep my arm–"
"Why the fuck would you say shit like that? Huh? What's wrong with you?"
Whumpee shook their head, tears trickling down their face. "I just don't want to go back! I– I'm just happy you'd allow me a few more days with you, even if– even if it'd cost me an arm! I just don't want to leave! I hate them! I hate them so much! I, I hope they don't pay–"
Whumper slapped them across the face and let go, allowing their hostage to crumple to the ground in a sobbing heap. Fucking idiot. What a stupid thing to say.
"I can't believe I kidnapped someone so sick in the head," they grumbled, and Whumpee curled up tighter at the insult.
Fucking hell.
They were already hoping the stupid fucks wouldn't pay, and now Whumpee had to say it out loud?
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whumperofworlds · 3 months
Text
During the midst of battle, Whumper takes Whumpee hostage. The team fighting Whumper's henchmen froze suddenly, and Whumper grinned.
"Drop your weapons, and I'll spare Whumpee."
Whumpee struggles against Whumper's grip, shaking their head. "Don't! Run while you still can!"
Regardless, the team drop their weapons, and the henchmen binds the team and captures them.
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